


Two Truths, One Lie

by onebatch2batch



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: And assertive Karen, F/M, I'm a sucker for pining Kastle, i wrote this instead of working
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebatch2batch/pseuds/onebatch2batch
Summary: Karen has a bad day at work and Frank tries to make her feel better. Hence, the drinking game.





	Two Truths, One Lie

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who don't know, Two Truths and One Lie is a game you play to get to know someone. You essentially tell them three things about yourself, and one has to be a lie. If they guess correctly on the lie, you drinking. If they don't guess correctly, they drink. It's fun, play it with your friends. 
> 
> Also, enjoy this!! The idea wouldn't leave me alone.

Karen unlocked her front door with the ever-present relief of finally being home. She’d had the day from hell at work. Two life-threatening letters, police statements, Ellison hounding her about her choice in stories, and coworkers side-eyeing her through her front office window. All she wanted was to go home and crawl straight into bed. 

She didn’t quite make it that far. In fact, she kicked off her shoes, threw her coat on the floor, and flopped face-down right on her couch, sighing loudly. And dramatically. It was her apartment and she was alone, after all. 

Or so she thought. The next thing she heard was a familiar, amused chuckle from the kitchen. “Long day?”

Karen didn’t bother looking up. “Like you wouldn’t believe. What are you doing here?” 

She heard Frank moving around the kitchen. “I heard about the threats on the scanner. Thought I’d check your alarm system.” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice; her alarm system was a key and a deadbolt. He made it a point to mention getting something more secure a couple times a week. 

“How sweet,” she said, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. Frank came to stand over her, holding out a glass of whiskey. She smiled up at him, reaching up to grab it, making sure to brush her fingers over his. 

He cleared his throat. “I ordered pizza,” he said casually. 

Karen sat up, eyes widening happily. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day. You’re too good to me, Frank.” 

His answering flush was enough, and he tugged on his baseball cap to cover his eyes. “‘S nothin’. You got a story to write?” 

“No, I’ve officially been given the night off. Perks of having your life threatened, I guess.” She downed her glass in one go, smiling at his surprised look. “So how do you feel about a little Friday night drinking game?” 

His eyebrows raised, but his lips pulled into a small smile. “What game were you thinkin’?” 

“How about....Two Truths and a Lie?” 

He wanted to say no, she could tell. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. Of course he wouldn’t want to do that, he’s a decorated war vet, and he’s been married, and he’s the Punisher, for god’s sake. Why would he ever want to play—

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We drinkin’ the whiskey?” 

— 

Frank wasn’t sure why he agreed to her plan. Maybe it was because he had nothing better to do, or maybe because she’d had a bad day and he would do anything to make her feel better. Or maybe because of all the times she’d stuck up for him (or put up with him) it was time to return the favor.Or maybe it was simply because she was his friend, and that’s what friends did. Whatever the reason, he agreed.

They took opposite ends of the couch, the bottle on the coffee table between them. Karen looked at him with those bright blue eyes, and her rosy lips were pulled into a wide, excited smile. “Okay, I’ll go first.” She hummed, tapping her finger on her glass. 

Frank looked at her while she thought up her statements. She was still in her typical blouse and pencil skirt, with her legs tucked up under her. One elbow was balanced on the back of the couch, and her hair tumbled over the opposite shoulder in one shining wave. She took his breath away with her effortless beauty, even though he tried to push those thoughts off to the side. _Friends_ ,he repeated in his head, like he usually did when those intrusive thoughts appeared.

“Alright,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “One, I broke my arm when I was 7. Two, my brother and I used to walk down to the corner store and steal handfuls of candy. Three, I had a dog when I was a kid named Chichi.” 

Frank furrowed his brows, thinking. He knew she’d had a brother who passed away, but other than that he didn’t know much about her childhood. “How’d you break the arm?” 

Karen laughed sharply, surprised. “Are you allowed to ask follow up questions? Alright, I fell down the stairs.” 

“The lie is....the last one.”

“Shit, yeah. My parents never let me have a dog. Did the Friends reference give it away?” Karen took a large sip of her drink, and he took a drink of his own to calm the way his heart thumped at her bittersweet smile. “You go.”

He wondered if this was all some ploy of hers to get to know more about him, or if she really just wanted an excuse to drink the night away. Either way, he considered his options then leaned back against the couch. “One. I never had white chocolate until last year. Two. I’ve read thirty two books this year, so far. Three. I first drove a car at 13.”

Karen blinked, turning the options over in her head. She sipped her drink, and the flush was already coloring her cheeks. “The...last one?” 

Frank chuckled. “My pops taught me to drive at 13 in a beat up POS. I’ve still never had white chocolate.” 

“That’s my favorite kind!” Karen sputtered, staring at him in feigned horror. He rolled his eyes but the door buzzed before he could answer. “That’s the pizza. I’ll be right back.”

—

Karen watched Frank go, frowning once he was out the door and out of sight. For several months now she had come home to find him lounging around her apartment on any given day. She knew he had his own place, but she suspected it was hard for him to be alone, especially after living with David for so long. She never voiced this opinion, because she would never want to do anything to scare him off, but sometimes she wondered what was going on his head, especially when she caught him staring at her. It happened more frequently than she thought he realized, because sometimes he would look away quickly, but other times he would stare right through her, lost in thought.

Although, he was never anything less than chivalrous. He always took the couch, had her coffee waiting for her in the mornings, and cleaned up after himself. Sometimes if she caught him off guard she would find him late at night just after a shower, shirt off and sweatpants on. Whenever this would happen he would excuse himself to the bathroom to finish getting dressed, awkward but unashamed. On those nights she would lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to him moving quietly through the other room. And if she left her bedroom door cracked open, just a little hopeful, well...

Frank reappeared through the door with the pizza. He placed it on the coffee table, then went to grab plates and napkins. Karen forewent the cutlery and grabbed a piece, taking a bite and letting out a happy sigh. “This is just what I needed after today. Thank you.” 

Frank offered her a napkin, smiling. “Glad I could help. Your turn.” 

Karen chewed thoughtfully, watching him eat. “Hm...okay. One, I got all A’s in high school. Two, My favorite movie is Erin Brockovich. Three, ...my biggest fear is heights.” 

Frank looked at her curiously, and she could see the decision warring on his face. “...one?” He asked, cautiously, like he knew he was wrong. 

“Nope, the last one is the lie. I graduated with a 4.5.” She flashed him a grin, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Drink.” 

Frank huffed, taking a drink. “So what’s your biggest fear?” 

Karen shrugged noncommittally. “Not part of the game, Castle. Your turn.” 

—

An hour (and many drinks) later found Frank and Karen in considerably higher spirits. The pizza box sat abandoned on the floor, and Karen had long since taken off her blouse to reveal her thin undershirt. Her long legs were stretched out along the couch, toes pressing against the side of Frank’s leg. They were both flushed from the alcohol, and Frank was absentmindedly rubbing circles on her ankle with his thumb. 

Karen realized a long time ago that Frank was an incredibly physical person, which had surprised her. When he couldn’t express himself with words he was more than happy to take her hand, press his forehead against hers, or touch her in any other of innocent ways that not-so-innocently set her aflame. It drove her absolutely mad, but it was also endearing to know someone who had been so broken was willing to initiate physical contact like he could. 

Karen poured them another round as Frank watched her intensely, sending goosebumps up her arms. He always became micro-focused when he drank with her, which was rarely, but definitely enough for her to notice. “Okay,” she said finally, sitting back against the couch, “my turn. One, my favorite season is fall. Two, I prefer tea to coffee. Three...” Karen locked eyes with him, making her mind up. “...I leave the bedroom door open on purpose.” 

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He watched her, still, thumb paused in the dip of her ankle. She held her breath, fingers tight on her glass. Slowly, he seemed to come back to life. He tilted his head and set down his glass on the end table, movements slow and measured. “You hate tea,” he told her knowingly, confidently. 

Karen nodded once, twice, as he came closer, lifting her legs into his lap. She didn’t dare speak; she refused to break this moment. He settled beside her, the heat of his body radiating under her legs. 

“One, I drink my coffee black.” He was staring at her, inching ever closer. Karen felt her heart trying to pound its way out of her ribcage. “Two, I was in the Marines since I was 18.” He reached out and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, his other hand on her knee. Frank’s eyes were hot coals, raking across her face. “Three...I absolutely do not think of coming into your room every time you leave that damn door open.” 

“The last one is a lie” she whispered, feeling the words crawling their way out of her lungs, her heart, her throat. “Fr—“

His lips were on hers before she could even get out his name, and the moment she tasted him she knew the waiting had been worth it. Karen pulled him down by the front of his shirt, hungry for more, fighting against her skirt. She wanted him everywhere, and he seemed to pick up what she wanted, sliding his hands up her thighs. The fabric gathered under his fingers and bunched at her waist, and he pulled her up to straddle him without warning. Karen laughed a little breathlessly as he stared up through the waterfall of her hair, eyes half-lidded and mouth shining from her lipgloss. She tilted her head over his mouth, grounding down on his lap, and smiled wickedly at his soft groan. 

“Fuck, Karen,” he rumbled, and she leaned down to catch his lips with her own, biting at his bottom lip lightly. 

“You’ve been making me wait on purpose, Frank?” She asked sweetly, rocking back and forth teasingly. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave a mark, but she only grinned, emboldened by the alcohol in her veins. His soft noises encouraged her, and she felt his hands trail down to cup her ass as he jerked his hips up to meet hers. 

“I didn’t know,” he said, rolling his head back onto the couch with a soft thump. He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t ask. She stood up and looked down at him as he snapped his eyes open in confusion at the sudden loss of her.

“Come on,” she told him with a smile, “bedroom door’s still open.” 

—

Frank felt the heat of Karen leave him without warning.

He opened his eyes quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. She was breathtaking; her hair was tousled, lips bright red, and the blue of her eyes had darkened passionately. Frank’s mind stuttered to a full stop as he looked at her, aching to have her on him again.

“Come on,” she said softly, the smile on her face lighting him up from the inside out, “bedroom door’s still open.”

He took her offered hand and stood, abandoning their dinner mess in favor of following her into the hallway. Her bedroom was awash in the orange streetlight, and there was just enough light for him to watch as she let go of his hand and unzipped her skirt. Frank felt his mouth dry up, and he stepped closer as her clothes fell to the floor. 

Karen looked at him through her lashes, hands finding their way to his belt like she’d been planning it all along. She pressed a kiss to his jaw, softly. “You sure about this?” she asked him, all gentle, all kind eyes, all love.

Frank threw his shirt to the side, and the smile on his face was wicked and tender all in one. 

“I think we’ve got some catchin’ up to do.”

Karen’s answering laugh as they tumbled onto the mattress was music to his ears.


End file.
